Sultry Oblivion by Alexa Padgett
Aya
Mama Grace was now a slightly older, grayer version of the woman I remembered so fondly. She took me in her arms and hugged just tight enough for me to know she meant it, but with a softness that caused me to relax against her.
“Now, let me look at you,” she said. She studied me with those same piercing eyes Cam had and nodded. “You’re okay.”
“I’m…getting there.”
Her smile was soft. “It’s very good to see you, my dear.” She turned to hug Nash with the same nurturing intensity. “I missed you,” she told him.
“I missed you, too, Mama G, but I’m not happy you’re stealing my girl away so soon.”
Mama tsked. “You need to court a lady, son. None of this fall-into-bed business Carter and Cam deemed acceptable. It’s no wonder I have so few grandbabies to spoil.”
“You got Ike in here and more on the way, Mama,” Cam called from the kitchen.
We headed down the hallway, and I noted the well-worn runner was the same.
Cam and Jenna were in the kitchen, along with Kate and a tall, rangy man with close-shorn light brown hair reminiscent of Nash’s, and a small boy with wide, bright eyes flashing behind his glasses.
“Hi,” he said, smiling a huge smile. “I’m Ike, and that’s my dad there. He’s a singer like Cam and Nash. And that’s my mama. Well, she’s my stepmom, but I prefer to call her Mama because she’s the best at mama-ing.”
I smiled down at him, charmed. “Kate is amazing,” I said. “And I’m Aya.”
“You have an accent like the baker guy on the show. Doesn’t she, Mama?”
“She sure does. But even more posh,” Kate said with a little laugh. She pulled me into the same warm hug as her mother’s.
I felt so thankful to be back with these wonderful, loving people. As much as I wanted to spend time with Nash, I knew if we set up playing house together, we might flame out even faster this time. Still, his comment about not having had sex flitted through my head, tantalizing me. Did that mean he was desperate for it? I worried my tassel.
Jenna bounced over, giving me a squeeze before Cam pulled me in for a long embrace.
“We’ve missed you, Aya girl.”
I blinked back tears even as I smiled up at him. “I’ve missed you all, too. So much.”
“You gonna tell me about it? Or at least what horses you been riding?” Cam asked.
I shook my head. “None.” I nibbled my lip. “And I have to admit, I’ve missed that.”
“Well, course you have. We’ll get you back in the saddle.”
“Let the poor girl get settled in, Camden,” Mrs. Grace chastised. “She’s still jetlagged, no doubt.”
Rye was more laidback than Cam, though he kept a sharp eye on Ike, who wanted to go outside to chase a turtle he’d named Sergeant Pepper. Ike charmed me further with the story about the name before he bolted out the back door.
“That’s my cue,” Rye said. He dropped a kiss on Kate’s lips and followed, shutting the door and its screen with a soft finality.
“I’ll go, too,” Cam said. “Nash, you coming?”
He glanced at me before moving in front of his mentor to head out the door. We all laughed when Cam let the door slam.
Kate sighed. “I do love that man’s protective streak, even though it drives me bat-shit crazy.”
“Girl, same,” Jenna said. She folded her arms on the counter and leaned her forearms there, wincing a little. “Cam’s probably going to try to hire someone to make the guitars soon. He doesn’t like my hours.”
Kate gasped. “You’ve cut back to three days a week.”
Jenna’s smile was both soft and filled with irritation. “Which is three days too many, as far as Cam’s concerned.”
“He does treat you like fine porcelain,” Kate said, tapping her lip with her index finger. Unlike Jenna’s unpolished, short nails, Kate’s were longer and painted a midnight purple.
I glanced down at my own fingernails, surprised to see the well-buffed shine of my last manicure intact. Maybe now that I was back in Austin, I’d get my nails painted a shocking red—no, green. Yeah. To match my Jade malas. I smiled.
“What happened to Nash’s hand?” Jenna asked. “I didn’t get a chance to pester you about it earlier. And I know that’s why Cam wants to talk to him.”
I hesitated. “That’s on me.” I sighed and explained how it happened.
Mama Grace looked back over her shoulder where she was washing something in the sink. “I was there—at the hospital that day. He was so torn up over you.”
I dropped my gaze to the counter. “I’ve not been fair to him.” I drew a pattern with my fingertip. “I only saw my side of the situation.”
“I don’t claim to know everything about relationships,” Kate said. “But I can tell you taking the time to listen and really hear Nash will go a long way.”
I sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to mess this—us—up. And I don’t want to go too fast.” I looked away.
“What’s your gut telling you?” Mama Grace asked.
“I haven’t spoken to it in years,” I admitted.
Jenna nudged me with her shoulder. “Maybe it’s time to start.”
After dinner and clean-up,during which Nash and I handled the dishes, he asked me to walk with him. He took my hand, threading our fingers together, and headed toward the barn.
“Want to meet some of the horses?” he asked.
“Sure.”
We walked in companionable silence.
“Did you…did you love any of the guys you dated?” Nash asked.
His tentative question squeezed my stomach. “No,” I said, my voice soft, hating what I was admitting. “I was trying to erase you.”
He stalked away from me and stood, hands fisted at his sides, for so long that I fidgeted.
“I should go,” he finally said. “Check on the kittens.”
“Nash.”
“I need to process what you said.” He faced me, storms boiling in his eyes. “That you’d do that—try to erase me—it hurts.”
“Well, you didn’t have our entire relationship thrown in your face,” I snapped. I hugged my arms around my waist.
“You’re right. But I never once said I hated you or tried to use others to erase you.”
The words hit heavy and felt awful—like lead darts to the soul.
“We have so much history,” I whispered. “Can we do this?”
He hung his head. “When I was on tour, I used to write you texts in my head. I had whole conversations with you. I played out at least a hundred possibilities of how we’d reconnect.”
His gaze met mine. “You have to believe me when I tell you I wasn’t in my right mind that night.”
“And that makes me feel even worse about what happened in the coffee shop.” I glanced away, shame burning my cheeks. “I know I was wrong, but you didn’t seem to get it—what I went through. So I wanted you to feel the loss of being walked away from, the shame and heartache of the night…”
My words hung in the air.
“I’m struggling, Nash,” I said, my voice small. “What I just said makes me feel small and nasty. I don’t want to be that person. I need to let it go. I want to. But it’s hurt me for a long time.” I lifted his good hand and pressed it to my heart, my throat a jumble of barbed emotions.
He cupped my cheek. I leaned into it.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, pretty girl.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“Good.”